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[Voice; Failed Private]

Mnuh. Think 'm shtill drunk. Shtupid virus.

An' 's makin' my mem'ry all weird, too. I know I 'member datin' Heather, but her an' 'zula both say they're datin'.

An', an' I'm jealoush, 'cause I 'member Heather bein' a nice girlfriend. But I don' 'member her ever visitin' me... But I mean, watchin' them... they're happy. An' they're both my friends, so I don' wanna shcrew it up for them.

Hope the virus 's over soon. Don' like bein' sad an' drunk at the same time...
All right, what's going on? I live in a seaport, and we never get fog like this. There's something strange about it. One of the community's tricks...

Whatever. I'm not even going to bother with this right now... this headache is so bad I could swear I'm seeing double.

[Locked to Britt Reid]
Don't bother contacting me. As far as I'm concerned, we've got no reason to speak to each other now that the community's little stunt is over. And if you let anyone know what I told you, the last thing that will go through your mind will be your face.

[Locked to Britt, ICly added about fifteen minutes later]
I'm sorry about that last note. I haven't really been feeling like myself since that virus finished, and I've been... irritable sometimes. Perhaps I ought to see a doctor about these mood swings I'm having. We can still talk, if you like, and I know you wouldn't give away my secret like that.

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[Voice | Text | Video]

This is Pretty Butterfly's journal. I am terribly sorry, but I'm not in at the moment - I will be glad to get to you if you will leave me a message.



Time to Die
蛱嬛 Pretty Butterfly

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November 2011


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